


Keep talking

by marvelous_imagination



Series: James Bond, Q and their dysfunctional relationship [3]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Arguing, Established James Bond/Q, Established Relationship, Fights, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lego, M/M, Q's hobbies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 09:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25468528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelous_imagination/pseuds/marvelous_imagination
Summary: James and Q have been fighting a lot. James makes an effort to make up. New argument arrises.
Relationships: James Bond & Q, James Bond/Q
Series: James Bond, Q and their dysfunctional relationship [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/745161
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. Talk to me

**Author's Note:**

> New chapter published every other day. (edit: she tried and failed, new chapter on 8th)

James Bond has made a promise to himself not to leave London for any mission before he'd be able to properly make up for all the fights they've had with Q over the last couple of weeks. Arguing wasn't unusual for the two of them, quite the opposite, as bickering and stubborn fights had been happening on a regular basis even before they became actual lovers. But the agent felt that they've reached a certain point where the arguments were way too severe even for their messed up standards. And even though he would never admit it out loud, he feared he might be losing Q. 

So James knew he needed to do something. Q was at MI6. The agent estimated he had about five hours before the young quartermaster would come home. Bond himself was on his last day of recovery leave - all of his wounds have pretty much healed. He was ready to go back to work and meant that despite all the training and examinations ahead of him, he could never be sure when they'd send the next mission request for him. So James knew he needed to do something as soon as possible.

Thinking about a gesture he could use to show his dear Q how much he valued him, Bond automatically dismissed any kind of fancy dinner. Q would be too tired after work, plus taking Q out to eat was something James did quite regularly. No, he had to be more creative with this. He could give his lover a present. Yes, a present will do.

Growing frustrated with the situation, the agent ran a hand through his hair and headed for the guest room that mainly served as Q's home office/workshop. He sat down at the desk space that was exceptionally organised. Q must have taken a lot of the stuff to the headquarters as James could vividly recall that the improvised workroom was an utter mess just a few days ago. 

"Right," Bond muttered under his breath as he scanned the room for ideas. 

What does Q like? Looking at the black computer screens and the tangled cables behind them, he let his mind wander. Q liked his job, he liked modern technology, computers, gadgets and - No, Q worked with these, he made them, but James wasn't sure whether Q was actually as fond of them as everyone seemed to think. Anyway, nothing work-related then.

So, what else does Q like? Cats. Yes, the quartermaster loved his cats, but James knew that the younger man didn't want a new cat. No cats either then. What else?

Bond realised he couldn't picture a single hobby of the young genius. He stood up, went to their bedroom, got changed into one of his regular suits and was off to consult someone - someone that knew Q very well.

***

Moneypenny was caught by surprise when she entered her office to find Bond sitting at her desk with a lovely bouquet in front of him. She raised her eyebrows.

"007, if this is another of your attempts to bribe me to-" she was interrupted by Bond.

"Good to see you, Moneypenny," he stood up and helped her to take off her coat. 

"Cut it off, James, this doesn't work on me anymore," she went around the agent to her table. 

"So it did work on you in the past then..." Bond smirked. Eve just rolled her eyes and tapped the silver watch on her left hand to remind him that her schedule was tight.

"Straight to the point then," James huffed and turned to the window. "How much do you know about Q's hobbies?" he asked as he watched people outside opening their umbrellas.

Moneypenny chuckled. "What's going on?" she was suddenly much more interested. "Bond-,"

"I mean, he must have some, doesn't he?" James turned back to her.

"You're the one to talk, you hardly know what to do with yourself when you're not here," she said while rearranging the flowers in the vase.

"But Q is not like me, you'd expect him to have plenty of different-," 

Eve looked up. "Wait, you actually don't know anything about what he likes to do apart from his job?" she asked disbelievingly.

The agent fixed her with a hard glare. "I wouldn't be here if I did," 

"I thought you've been living together for months now, how can you not know anything?" she was genuinely astonished by how little Q seemed to share with his boyfriend. 

Bond was to be growing frustrated with the situation. "I might have been a bit difficult to be around in the past few weeks. I need to find a gift for Q, not just the normal sorts-," he waved on the bouquet on Eve's desk with a smirk on his face. "I need something much more personal, but apparently, I don't know him well enough," he said, annoyed with himself.

"Well, try buying some limited edition LEGO," Eve simply said.

"What?" 

"Q likes LEGO," 

"I doubt it, he doesn't even own any," the agent replied, starting to regret going to Eve for help in the first place. 

Moneypenny's phone rang and interrupted them. "Look, I have to go now," she began packing her things. "If you want to make things up then don't bother with any presents and talk with him because it looks like you both really need it,"

"And if you'll want relationship advice in the future, please do make an appointment," she added sarcastically and looked up from her phone.

"I think I'd rather let you accidentally shoot me down again," Bond smirked and left before Eve could add another piece of advice he didn't want to hear.

***

Back at home, James took off his jacket and poured himself a generous amount of his favourite brand of Scotch. How was it possible that he didn't know what Q liked to do in his spare time? They had been together for over a year, was Q hiding anything? 

The double-O agent had to suppress the urge to go through every little detail in the flat. He didn't want to snoop around his lover's belongings, no, that would be taking it too far. He just had to wait for the quartermaster to come home and ask him. Maybe, Eve was right after all. Hopefully, all they needed to do was to talk.

The more Bond thought about it, the worse the situation appeared to be. He went through the past few weeks, through each and every one of their conversations that he could remember. They had been fighting more than he cared to admit. The little time they spent together could be easily divided between arguing, angrily ignoring each other and makeup sex that usually followed after their arguments. They never talked about it. 

"Fuck," James muttered as he realised they had never even talked about their relationship or this living arrangement for that matter. Things just kept happening between the two of them, and they remained silent about it, always finding other things to talk about instead.

***

Q came home shortly after James had ordered takeaway from their favourite Chinese restaurant down the street. The younger man wasn't sure what to expect. Apart from the nervous tension that had been between the two of them, Q heard that James made a quick appearance at Six earlier that day. 

"Hey," James greeted him from the sofa. Q took off his grey anorak and made his way to Bond. 

"Hey," Q smiled even though he had to force it. He hated it himself for it.

"So, how's your day? Have you been up to much?" the quartermaster asked as he was unpacking his bag. He could feel Bond's glare.

"You know I was at Six," James simply stated and had a sip of his Scotch. Q turned to look at him.

"I've heard the rumours," he answered, trying not to cause another argument.

"And you also plausibly looked up the footage of me going in, just out of curiosity," Bond didn't seem to be in the best mood, Q thought. 

"I did," Q admitted and sat on the sofa, facing his older lover. He didn't say anything. Q just looked at James expectantly, silently daring him to continue. Bond finished his drink and put the glass on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

"What do you enjoy doing in your free time?" the agent asked out of nowhere. Q raised his eyebrows. Out of all the things he was preparing himself for Bond to say, he certainly didn't see this one coming.

"What?" 

"What do you like to do in your spare time, Q," James repeated slowly. "You must have something like a hobby or-," 

"I work a lot, you know it yourself that there isn't much time left for weekends spent gardening," he retorted jokingly. 

"You don't work all the time," James said dryly, got up and made his way to the kitchen. He took out the plates from the cupboards and prepared the cutlery.

"The dinner should be here in a bit," he added. Q just watched him, confused as to why Bond's suddenly interested to know about his hobbies of all things.

"What's going on, James?" the quartermaster sighed as he sensed that this conversation is inevitably leading to an argument.


	2. My words won't come out right

James took a bottle of Pinot Noir out of the alcohol cabinet in their living room and returned to the kitchen. He then looked at Q again, holding a corkscrew in one hand and the bottle of red wine in the other. 

"I think we both know exactly, what's wrong," Bond pointed at Q with the corkscrew. "We never talk about this," the agent waved at the space between them and began opening the bottle. "Can you do me a favour?" the older man asked after a minute of silence.

"What do you want?" Q managed to get out. He was growing increasingly worried about how this conversation might end. Of course, he was aware that the last few weeks sucked, that they were going from one argument to another and that even before, their relationship was something they never talked about which must have sooner or later become a problem. He knew all of that, yet he was still stupidly surprised and anxious to hear Bond out. He didn't want to lose him.

"I need you to come here, look me in the eye and tell me you trust me," James' voice sounded cold and distant which Q knew meant that he was probably putting himself out there and feeling more or less vulnerable. The younger man hesitated.

"Do you fucking trust me or not, Q?" Bond hit the table, and one of the wine glasses almost fell to the floor. Q's heart was pounding as if he just ran a mile. He took a deep breath and was about to say something when the bell rang. The double-O agent exhaled loudly and went to the front door to fetch their dinner. 

The quartermaster tried to come up with a compromise between the truth and an answer that wouldn't hurt his lover. Yes, James Bond was ironically the person Q felt the safest around but did he fully trust him? No. 

Q was young but not naive. While he liked to think that working for MI6 didn't change him, the ugly truth was that it did - because Q didn't fully trust anyone. There were a few people close to him that knew small bits of his life, but Q always made sure not to reveal the full picture. 

"Q," 

"We need to talk," Q suddenly blurted out and looked over to Bond who was in the kitchen again, unpacking the Chinese takeaway. 

"The food will get cold," James replied, not bothering to look up.

"It's just a bloody takeaway, screw it," the younger man raised his voice which finally got Bond's attention.

"Fine," the agent said and pushed away one of the plastic boxes. The quartermaster got up from the sofa, nervously pulled on the sleeves of his cardigan and moved to the kitchen entrance.

"I need you to listen to me right now," Q spoke again, trying to keep his voice steady, and readjusted his glasses.

"You haven't answered my question yet,"

"Just let me talk and-," the quartermaster realised he was raising his voice again. "Look, I don't know how to say this so that I don't sound like the worst person in this whole bloody world, but the fact is I don't trust anyone," he took a deep breath and continued. He needed to get it out before he'd lose it completely.

"You know as much as I do that you can't go around spilling around personal information to any stranger," Q knew he made a fatal mistake the moment he finished the sentence. Bond's expression changed.

"I was hoping I was more than a stranger to you, but at least I finally know where I'm standing," the agent was about to take a sip of the red wine but eventually put the glass back onto the table. "I should go, a stranger shouldn't invade your personal space,"

"James, I-" Q started, but Bond didn't let him finish.

"I'll pack all of my stuff in the morning and be gone before you return from work," the older man walked past Q.

"You know I didn't mean it like that," 

"You didn't?" James turned around. "And how did you mean it then? You just told me that you didn't trust me, what else is there to say? Tell me what I can do to earn your trust, and I'll fucking do it straight away!" 

Q sighed. "There's nothing you can do - I just can't ch-," he was on the verge of tears.

"You see, there's nothing to talk about then. I'm sorry, Q," Bond said, looking away. "I'll sleep in the guestroom if you don't mind," he added and disappeared behind the door.

The quartermaster was utterly shocked. He took a deep breath, trying to prevent himself from crying like a teenage schoolgirl. "Shit," he whispered to himself and intentionally banged his head onto the kitchen doorpost. 

Q's cats decided that it was the right moment to come out from wherever they'd been hiding and began meowing at him when he didn't acknowledge them. 

"I know, I know," Q muttered eventually and knelt down to pet them. He then refilled their bowls and sat at the table. The dinner was still in the boxes, but the food was the last thing on Q's mind at that moment. The rational part of him told him he had done the reasonable thing by not trusting an infamous double-O agent, but his heart clenched at the thought of life without James. 

Q always followed his rational self when making important decisions. Maybe this was the time to break the rule though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you've enjoyed the story so far. Feel free to let me know what you think in the comments.


	3. Ready to open up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope someone will enjoy this.

Q kept sitting at the dining table watching his cats eat and then disappear into the living room. He didn't know what to do so he just switched off all of the kitchen lights and sat back onto the wooden chair. Q wished he could slow down his racing mind at that moment, Q wished he could do the same thing he did when guiding the agents through the trickiest of situations - take a deep breath and think without letting his own emotions take the better of him. But this wasn't a mission or government's secret strategy, no, this was his relationship. And the fundamental prerequisites of a romantic relationship were feelings and emotions.

The quartermaster took off his glasses. He was still on the verge of tears and images of life without his lover didn't help. Q had grown incredibly fond of the double-O agent. Q loved him which was something he didn't even like to admit to himself let alone say it out loud.

...

Hours had passed, and the flat was unnervingly quiet. 

Q had finished the wine while tapping his fingers on the table in an attempt to calm himself down. He then put his glasses back on and stood up. He couldn't let them end like that. So, he found himself standing in front of the door to the guest room. He watched his right hand on the handle and realised he was visibly shaking. Q blamed it on a bit too much wine on an empty stomach and slowly opened the door.

He could see Bond's lying silhouette illuminated by the thin ray of light coming from the hallway. Q knew that James must have heard him come in. The agent was a light sleeper, and even the faintest noise was enough to wake him up. You can't just switch off years of rigorous training and traumatising experience.

The quartermaster didn't have a clue on what he was going to do. His cheeks were burning thanks to the generous amount of wine he drank, but his fingers felt cold and stiff. He could hear his heart beating inside his ears which was a sensation he had always despised.

Bond didn't move or otherwise acknowledge the younger man's presence. No, James was way too stubborn for a gesture like that. The quartermaster knew his lover was expecting him to make the first move.

Q finally entered the room and closed the door behind himself. It was now pitch black, which made him feel surprisingly calmer. He made a few steps towards the bed, hesitated for a second but then swiftly got under the covers and laid down next to Bond. 

Why was it so hard for him to let go and show his feelings? It shouldn't be this hard. Bloody not this hard. He remembered it used to be easy. Way easier than now. How could he change so much without realising it? 

"Don't leave," the quartermaster started, but voice broke right away. He couldn't feel the tears building up in the corners of his eyes. The younger man turned to his side and spooned James, who was still ignoring him. Q was overwhelmed by his sudden expressive emotional self and pressed his face against Bond's neck.

"I'll tell you everything about myself if that's what you need me to do," Q was on the verge of breaking down.

Finally, James sighed. "I don't need to know everything, Q," his voice was steady and sounded distant compared to Q's desperate tone. "But you don't even trust me with basic information about your hobbies outside work and that-" 

"I like LEGO, building paper models, collecting stickers and train sets. I also enjoy plenty of other things, but it's hard to suddenly name every one of the things one likes, you know. Uhmm, I love PJ Harvey and Nick Cave and art rock in general. And, and I often play many oldish online games and published a book where I rated them. Oh, and I also like jigsaw puzzles," Q had to take a deep breath. He was full-on sobbing right then.

James finally turned to face him. "I love you," he said bluntly, looking directly in the younger man's eyes. Q nodded. "I think I love you too," the quartermaster wiped out his tears.

"I mean, what I'm trying to say is that I know that I, you know, love you," he was looking at Bond's nose while he spoke. He read somewhere that it simulates eye contact. Maintaining eye contact was something Q had been struggling with recently.

"Not that you know, but more like that I'm aware of loving you and-," 

"I get it, Q," James said with a slight smile and hugged him tightly. 

"And I'm fucking glad you're saying that because I genuinely thought we wouldn't be able to fix this after all," the agent spoke softly into his lover's messy hair.

"I feel safe with you," Q almost whispered and squeezed James' hand.

"I think I must have become a bit paranoid after the time spent working for Six. I often feel like I shouldn't trust anyone in the whole world. I don't understand how you've been doing it all these years," 

James sighed. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to-" the quartermaster added.

"I think it's more of a conscious decision I make. Trusting someone after you've seen what people are capable of is not easy. And you're young to-"

"I'm not that young," 

"You are, Q. You are young and brilliant. And I trust you with my life,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A comment would make my day.


End file.
